


All Wait For the Brightest Light

by HanHan_Solo156



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV First Person, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:56:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28510785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HanHan_Solo156/pseuds/HanHan_Solo156
Summary: On my lips, there’s still the taste of him - that taste that makes stars dance in front of my eyes and has been the cause of my insomnia for so many nights I don’t even dare to count.He then leans closer, still scrutinizing me with those blank eyes whose color I haven’t yet figured out. “And you might have just exposed yourself, Yagami-kun,” Ryuzaki states and tilts his head in a curious way.Tired of his strict family, miserable romantic relationship, and studies in Japan, an ex-prodigy Yagami Light signs out of one of Tokyo’s top colleges to move to Germany hoping to have a fresh start for a new life.Light’s hope for peace and quiet is interrupted right from the start though when a mysterious fellow Japanese moves in with him.
Relationships: L/Yagami Light
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	All Wait For the Brightest Light

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! *awkward wave*
> 
> It's almost midnight and I decided this random Lawlight fic I wrote during holidays could finally be exposed to public. I have no idea is anyone even reading fics about these two anymore, but I absolutely fell in love with this ship after watching the series (I know I'm late in the game, but better late than never, right?).
> 
> So, here's a random Lawlight AU story about those two lovely dorks ending up being roommates. I hope at least someone enjoys, but if not, at least I've had a lot of fun while writing this. :D

“Welcome to Berlin!” an unnaturally cheerful female voice announces from the speakers as I stretch my weary body after a long flight. People come and go, their unknown faces passing me. Where are they heading to? What are they doing here? So many stories that don’t matter to me - despite being surrounded by numerous people, I’m all alone.

Do you know this feeling when you step out of the airplane to a new country, savoring the smells, sounds, and visuals with all of your senses? That is exactly what I am feeling right now while I stand in the middle of the big terminal in the country that is supposed to serve as my home.

Like a lost kid in the woods - the feeling is almost suffocating me, but I can’t give in. This was _my_ choice, after all. First time ever something _I_ chose entirely myself. Even though how terrifying this might be, still there’s no questioning it: what a relief it is to be far from home.

The unholy long flight is the only reason to buy a water bottle that costs 8 euros, so I can’t help it. I then sit on a bench, watching people come and go before my eyes. Digging out a piece of paper from my pocket I read the text in my mind: Leopoldstrasse 85 – that address will get familiar in upcoming months, maybe even years.

When the ridiculously pricy water has given me enough energy to continue before I start overthinking or even worse, regretting my choices, I hop on a train, hoping the trip to my new home wouldn’t last for too long. To my luck, I find a place in peace, but my tired mind doesn’t give up that easily.

Even though I’m physically as far as I can, the memories, people, and incidents of my miserable life will be my burden - perhaps forever.

_“Germany? Son, what the hell are you thinking? Isn’t Japan enough for you? DID YOU QUIT FOR REAL, NOT TELLING ANYTHING TO US?!” my dad had yelled that night when I finally dared to reveal I was going to quit college, had an apartment, and had already booked my flights to Berlin. It had been this autumn when I had in secret gotten rid of my stuff, just making vague lies of having a sudden urge of donating everything to charity. Some of them I had already sent into my new house, while some I had just gotten ruthlessly rid of. Especially from those items that reminded me too much of my father._

_“No dad,” I had replied, my eyes fixed on the fancy oak table in our kitchen. Once when I was a child I had been scolded for scratching it by accident, beaten up like a street dog. Many things I had forgotten on purpose, but the freaking oak table always gave me shivers. Soon, I didn’t have to see it - hopefully never again._

_I had turned to look at my old man with narrow eyes, not even the slightest hint of insecurity in my voice anymore when I had announced: “This time, I will leave permanently.”_

A full novel wouldn’t be enough to describe the shit storm that had followed, but all you need to know now, dear reader, is that I have entered safely to my new life and broken up the chains that had been suffocating me for all these years - those chains called _family_ and _culture,_ your roots. Isn’t it funny how those things are considered so sacred yet you never had a chance to choose them? I don’t know about you, but at least that question has kept me awake for too many nights.

Probably it’s my pondering, but the trip doesn’t last as long as I had assumed. I press my nose to the window, trying to comprehend whether I saw correctly or not, but yup, there it is: an apartment building that has seen its best days already aka Leopoldstrasse 85. Excitement bubbles inside me. 

Hopping off from the train, I take firm steps towards the house and inside I go to check the mailbox. As promised, the keys are there. 3rd floor, no elevator. Well, at least some exercise does good after sitting in an airplane and watching dull romantic comedies for too long. Seriously, who chooses the films for Japanese Airlines?

When I reach my door eventually, I take a deep breath and step in: this will officially be the start of my new life.

A creaky door closes behind me. An old smell, resembling second-hand stores too stuffed with old people’s clothes meets my nose, but that’s not all. It’s something familiar, yet I can’t completely put my finger on, what it is.

All my senses are tuned in – like a cat that has sensed there’s a rat nearby. I tiptoe to the kitchen where my fears come true: there sits a man with black hair - or more so, something that resembles a magpie’s nest.

The smell I had noticed was the scent of another person. 

“Hiya,” the stranger states casually like we had been the best buddies for ages already. The words are accompanied by a wave of a hand, but he still doesn’t bother to turn around to face me. He sits in a weird bent position, his bare feet on the chair. Truly a figure I’ve never seen before. I would say he could fit in a Moomin story, but definitely not in my house.

I can’t do anything besides holding my breath, staring at the surreal sight. Who is this man? A burglar, Jehova’s witness, or a murderer? I try to form something witty to say so the man would go away, but words get stuck in my throat.

Yagami Light, always such a quick-witted guy, many have said - and already, this stranger has proven how gibberish that claim about me is.

While I stay there, pondering what I should do next, the stranger turns around. Under his eyes lie circles so dark it’s difficult to tell whether it’s eyeliner or just a result from arduous all-nighters. The most pallid color I’ve ever seen on anyone’s face is just a cherry on top, making his eyes stand out even more distinctly. “Fancy Sachertorte? I can share,” he asks in my mother tongue.

My jaw dropping almost to the floor, I manage to ask: “You, you speak… Japanese?”

The strange man, resembling a bird or such, turns around again and concentrates on the table again. “Of course. Nihon-jin desu. I suppose you too?”

Clenching my hands into fists, I can’t take it anymore. I came all the way to Europe to get away from all that is from my culture and now there’s a random _Japanese_ guy in my kitchen? _You gotta be kidding me._

Trying my best not to burst out in my travel fatigue and now this incident, I sit by the table and show an object in my hand to the man. “You know what... this is?”

He barely gives a glance at it and then stares at me with his blank eyes. “Of course. It’s a smartphone.” He then squints and tries to get a better look at the gadget. “iPhone 12? That’s pretty neat.”

“Ohh, sharp-eyed, huh?” I start and try my best to concentrate. I can’t give up now, I just can’t. “Do you happen to have any idea what I might do with this _smartphone_ right now if you are not getting your fat ass away from my house?”

“I suppose you are going to call the cops,” he responds and takes a mouthful of the Sachertorte into his mouth. “Are you still sure you don’t want to taste? This is the best I’ve ever had. That small bakery downstairs knows what they are doing. I’m probably going to get another one when I finish this.”

I lean back in my chair and cross my arms – my threatening is not making the effect I wished it would have had. “Jokes aside, I’ve had a long day and I’m losing my patience. What the hell are you doing in my house? How did you get in?”

“I have the keys, of course,” he replies and munches so loud I want to smack him right into that sharp nose of his.

“Would you bother to tell me how you stole them?”

“I didn’t steal them,” the stranger says and swallows, turning his focus back to me. “I got them as legally as you.”

“And how?”

“You are probably familiar with Frau Landers? I signed a contract with her,” he says casually and points at me with his fork. “Because _we_ are going to be roommates.”

My eyes turn wide when I almost fall from the chair. “E-excuse me?”

Again, he takes an enormous piece of his precious cake and not even bothering to swallow this time, mumbles: “It means we are living together now.”

Oh boy, this man really is getting on my nerves. “Of course, I know what a roommate means, but…”

My sentence is cut out when a realization hits me - all the blood in my body freezes. _Oh no._ Then I remember that I, indeed, agreed on my contract to have a flatmate. The rents here are ridiculously high and as I don’t want to ask for financial support from my family, I had no other choice than to apply for a commune flat. I don’t know what I had expected - maybe a quiet college girl who I would never even see, or a worker bee from another city who just comes to the house to sleep occasionally, but this...

_Sigh._ I’m defeated. I hate this man already.

I stand up and look at him, still one question burning on my lips. “Why on earth are you eating Sachertorte on my table without a plate? You are scratching the surface!”

“All my stuff is in boxes still, so I figured out this is much handier.”

“I inherited that table, it’s been valuable to my family for centuries!”

His eyes turn narrow and he glances at me from head to toe, before he states: “Since when did family start mattering anything to a man who left everything behind him, wanting to get as far as he could from his roots?”

_Touché._ I point at the stranger. This is getting creepy now. “How did you…?”

He licks his fingers in a disgusting way before he starts his rambling: “Simple deduction, my friend. According to your looks, you must be something around 20 years old, meaning you supposedly quit your school in Japan. As we both know, in our country it means disgrace, so you had to leave – no, you didn’t have to, you _wanted_ to leave, to start a new life abroad.”

All I wish now is that the bird’s nest man doesn’t see my trembling. “Listen, I have no idea who you are or how did you…”

“Just call me L. May I know your name too so I don’t have to be a weird stalker and get it from somewhere else?”

_What kind of a name is that?_ I ignore his question and start babbling: “…so, listen _L_ , I have no clue how you knew those things or how on earth we ended up being flatmates, but…”

“There was a 9,57% chance I’d end up being a flatmate with a fellow Japanese,” L says, “but I’m happy we met.” 

Crossing my arms, I stare at him and ask: “Well guess what?”

He looks at me, stupidly as ever, and tilts his head while he puts his index finger into his mouth.

“I’m not.” 

Not bothering to stay to look at the reaction, I lock myself into my room. I let out an exasperated sigh while I lay on my bed, trying to figure out what the hell I should do next. Should I actually call the cops, or…? No, as he said he has signed a contract so he’s as legally here as I am. _Shit._

Digging out the phone from my pocket - and I swear I normally never do this, but this is a special occasion - the first thing I do is to type into the Google search bar:

_How to evict a roommate: 14 simple steps._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you need a friend to ramble anything about Death Note or fic writing in general, you can find me on Tumblr as hanhan156. ^^


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